


the high road

by easyspeak



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Creampie, Dirty Talk, M/M, Name-Calling, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Top Shiro (Voltron), for being a brat, keith gets his booty pounded in his sleep, keith in a skirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easyspeak/pseuds/easyspeak
Summary: Shiro’s bad night has a single legible cause: Keith Kogane.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 325





	the high road

**Author's Note:**

> mind the tags you guys!

Shiro’s bad night has a single legible cause: Keith Kogane. 

He’s been working at Olka Tech with his best friend Hunk for the last eight years. They’d gotten their positions fresh out of college, and the pay soon became so lucrative that they found thousands and  _ thousands _ of reasons to stay. 

Hunk decides to have his thirtieth birthday party at home. Hunk’s a lovable guy, so the place is pretty packed. Shiro’s more than familiar with plenty of Hunk’s friends and family, so he has no problem navigating the crowd. Enjoys himself too, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he leans against Hunk’s bar talking to the head of their marketing team, Allura. 

That’s when things start going to shit. Because of Keith, of course.

See Keith isn’t a co-worker, and he’s not a family member. Shit, Shiro doesn’t think he’s even old enough to drink. Looks eighteen, nineteen at the absolute oldest. Hunk’s invited his nineteen-year-old cousin Lance to the party. And appaaaarently Lance brought a friend. Shiro wonders if Lance makes a habit of running down to hell and getting chummy with demon-spawn. Because he swears that’s what Keith is. 

Keith’s in a tight black shirt and matching tennis skirt that runs so short it bounces up a bit with every movement that he makes. 

Shiro’s talking to Allura at the bar when Keith stumbles into him, sends his whiskey spilling across his expensive white shirt. 

Before Shiro can say anything, Keith’s rolling his eyes at him, telling him, 

“Jesus Christ, you’re built like an eighteen-wheeler. How was I supposed to  _ not _ bump into you, Snow Yeti?” He looks down at Shiro’s shirt, where the whiskey’s soaked through, and shrugs. “Least I finally gave you can excuse to burn that shirt.” 

Shiro’s face is already burning, his jaw clenched, but before he can say anything Hunk’s cousin Lance, an adorable nineteen-year old with curly hair and bright blue eyes, comes rushing over. 

“Shiro! I’m so sorry!” He’s saying, grabbing Keith by the arm, “this is Keith. I just pulled him out of the woods, none of the home-training’s really stuck yet.”

Allura turns to Shiro, mouth wide open in shock. 

“If I run over to the clinic to get my tubes tied right after this, do you think they’ll be able to squeeze me in without an appointment?”

Shiro laughs, accepts the paper towels Allura’s passing to him. 

Hunk, because he’s just that sweet, hears about what happened and lets Shiro borrow one of his shirts. 

Shiro stays as far away from Keith as he can. He doesn’t like how quickly the boy was able to irritate him, how easily he’d gotten a rise out of him. So he stays away. 

Or, at least, he tries to. 

He’s sitting on the couch on the far side of the room talking to Shay, Hunk’s fiancée. Shiro’s sister just got married a couple of weeks ago, and Shay wants to see the pictures. Shiro slips his phone out of his pocket but loses his grip on it. It falls to the ground, skids to the edge of the coffee table.

Before he can get his hands on in he watches the screen crack under the pressure of a heeled black boot. Frustration fills out his mouth like saliva, but he figures it’s an accident. When he looks up to see Keith staring down at him with a completely unbothered expression, foot still on Shiro’s phone, he feels his face heating up in anger. 

“Keith,” he says, voice tightly controlled. 

With a smirk, Keith lifts his foot off the phone.

“Oops,” he says. He saunters away, skirt swaying behind him. 

Shiro picks up his phone. It still turns on, thank fuck. 

“You have the patience of a monk,” Shay says. 

Shiro laughs. “Don’t give me that much credit yet.” 

When Shiro looks around the room about a half hour later, sees only respectable, non-demonic people interacting, he thinks he’s home free. Keith is nowhere to be found, and Shiro’s all the happier for it.

Shiro’s phone is still working, even after Keith went all  _ Office Space _ on it, but it’s nearly dead. He heads out to his car to grab his charger, fishes his keys out of his pocket as he heads down the driveway and—

There’s somebody on the hood of his car. They’re sitting with their long, ivory legs folded underneath them, a bottle of beer in one hand and a box of nachos in the other. He sees the sharp line of their cheekbone, the hint of pouty lips… the antagonizing, laissez-faire smile. Lance is standing next to Keith, arms waving a bit frantically. He looks like he’s trying to get Keith to come down.

“Keith!” Shiro calls out.

Lance flinches, but Keith doesn’t. Keith turns to him slowly, cheese dripping from his nacho box onto the polished navy finish of Shiro’s Lexus, god _ dammit _ .

“Get down. Now,” Shiro grits through his teeth.

Keith holds his gaze, pushes a single fully-loaded chip into his mouth. Closes his mouth around his fingers makes a show of pulling them free.

Shiro feels steam coming out of his ears. The little shit.

But when Keith goes to get down off the hood of the car, he stumbles a bit and Lance has to catch him. Shiro looks at the beer bottle (beer  _ bottles _ , he’s now noticing) on the hood and groans.

“How much did you two have to drink?” He asks.

Lance looks up at him, gives him a cute, sheepish little smile. His deep brown skin’s flushed red. Keith’s cheeks are pink.

“Um… we’ve been here for a while,” Lance offers, words slurred. 

Shiro runs a hand through his hair.

“Could you… get us home, Shiro? I don’t want to piss Hunk off on his birthday, that’s not fair.”

Shiro levels the drunk kids a look. Lance is way better off than Keith, who’s slumping against his friend like he’d fall on his face otherwise.

Shiro sighs.

“Wait here. Throw out the bottles, and the goddamn nachos. I’ll tell Hunk that you’re both tired.”

Lance smiles wider, relieved. “Thanks Shiro!”

Shiro goes back inside, lets Hunk know that he’s gonna be driving Lance and Keith home. Shiro feels his own exhaustion creeping in, and adds that he’s gonna turn in for the night too. After a quick hug from Hunk, he’s heading out.

The boys only live a few blocks away, in an apartment building mostly rented by college students. Shiro had assumed that Lance and Keith were roommates, but apparently they’re not. Lance lives on the first floor, Keith on the second.

“Thanks Shiro,” Lance says again, all while Keith’s playing with his curls and pouting about how much he “misses his nachos” in his arms. “I can get him upstairs.”

Shiro looks at Lance’s flushed face, his glassy eyes. He sighs again, almost groans really.

“No. You go in and get some rest. I’ll get him upstairs.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Shiro almost grits his teeth when he reaches out for the little agent of darkness and says, “give him here.”

Keith leans heavily against him, laughs. “Okay, The  _ Moderately Impressive  _ Hulk. Maybe you’re not as much of a little bitch as I pegged you for.”

Lance’s eyes widen. “He’s not… I mean, he doesn’t mean that _ — _ ”

“It’s okay Lance,” Shiro brushes it off with a smile, “I can be an adult about this.”

Shiro gets Keith up the stairs. By the time he’s unlocking the door to the boy’s apartment, Keith’s half-dozing in his arms. When he gets the door open, the boy’s practically asleep. He’s not supporting any of his own weight anymore, so with an annoyed huff, Shiro picks him up bodily. Slings him over a shoulder and kicks the door shut behind them, hears the lock click into place.

The apartment’s more of a single room occupancy dorm. Studio-style, the whole place is open plan. Kitchen next to living area next to bedroom area. There are posters of kickboxers and multi-colored space nebulas pasted across the walls. Another door leads to what Shiro assumes is the bathroom.

Shiro walks over to Keith’s bed, arm tight around the back of his thighs to keep him steady on his shoulder. He drops the boy in a heap on the sheets. He lands on his back, but considering how drunk he’d been, Shiro figures it’s a better idea to put him on his side. He grips a thin hip and a leg, does just that. Keith, mostly unconscious, shifts onto his stomach instead.

“Whatever,” Shiro says to himself.

He runs a hand through his hair again. What a night. What a fucking night. He can’t believe how much of a goddamn brat this kid’s been. Grated Shiro’s nerves at every turn and here Shiro is, tucking his drunk ass in bed. Shiro hates boys like these, the cocky ones that do nothing but provoke other people for sport. 

When Shiro looks down again he notices that the tennis skirt has shifted up Keith’s thighs with all his movement. Keith’s drawn a leg up towards his chest, face smooshed into the pillows. And what a lovely face it is. Now that Keith’s not forcing him to dump whiskey on himself, smashing his phone to smithereens, or giving his Lexus a brand-new, sharp cheddar paint job, Shiro can see that face,  _ that body _ , for what is.

Keith is pretty as hell. In fact, it’s one of the first, subconscious things that Shiro had noticed about him—a mop of black hair that brushes his shoulders, those big doe eyes Shiro remembers from when he’d been awake. And the nicest, fullest pair of pink lips that Shiro’s ever seen. They’re popped open now as Keith floats around within an alcohol-induced sleep.

The rumpled skirt offers a teasing glimpse of a pair of bright white panties. Shiro feels himself stirring in his pants, knows that he should leave. That he should just step back and—

No. Because Keith’s been a rude ass brat to him all night. A better look at those panties is frankly the  _ least  _ he’s owed. 

Shiro pinches the hem of the skirt between his fingers, slowly inches the skirt up further. Further and further, till it’s completely flipped up and Shiro sees the entirety of Keith’s, quite frankly,  _ incredible  _ ass. The panties are lacy, and the boy’s ass is so round and plump that the band of the underwear disappears between his sweet, creamy cheeks.  _ This  _ is what he’d been wearing out in public? Knowing that all it would take was an ill-timed wind to blow his skirt up, give everybody an eyeful of this dreamy ass? What a slut. What an absolute little slut.

The panties cling to the fleshy globes, bite into them a bit. Shiro can even see light pink lines forming from where the edge of the underwear clutches Keith’s ass. What sensitive skin. It’d probably react gorgeously if Shiro spanked it, rough and merciless. The skin would probably bloom pink, then red, then redder as Shiro put this boy in his place, showed him what happens to pretty dark-haired college boys with plump asses and bad attitudes.

Shiro gives in to his urge to touch. He reaches out and grabs a soft cheek, gentle with it as he checks Keith’s face for signs of waking. 

His eyes are still closed, long lashes impossible to miss like this.

Shiro loves the way the cheek fills out his palm. He flexes his hand and watches, his cock steadily hardening in his slacks, as his fingers sink into jiggly flesh. He pops open the button on his pants and undoes his zipper, sticks a hand in his underwear to grip himself as he slowly kneads the cheek in his hand.

He checks Keith’s face again before he toes off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, straddling Keith’s creamy thighs. He grips a cheek in each hand now, kneads them, absolutely amazed by the weight of them, the silky-smoothness. Shiro runs his hands over the mounds, stops at the band of the underwear at Keith’s lower back.

Shiro hooks his fingers into the band, pulls and pulls until they’re inching down Keith’s ass. Shiro stops once he’s got them right under the curve of his ass, just to drink in how filthy Keith looks with his underwear half-way down his legs, pretty butt completely exposed. 

Shiro shifts down the bed so he can completely take off the panties. He scoots back up again, grabs Keith’s round cheeks, and spreads them. Between Keith’s plump cheeks lays the prettiest, ripest little cherry Shiro’s ever seen. It’s a gorgeous little pucker, and Shiro’s leaning down to have a taste within six seconds of seeing it for the first time. 

He gives it a gentle lick, just traces the rim with the tip of his tongue. Keith’s squirming already.

“ _ Mmm _ ,” Keith moans, so sweet. So sweet. Why can’t he be that sweet with his eyes open?

Shiro licks harder, more purposeful, till the little pucker is yielding to him, opening right up like a flower in bloom. Shiro loves Keith’s taste, vanilla soap and sweat. He curls his tongue inside the rim and, with handfuls of Keith’s jiggly ass, shoves in as far as he can go.

Keith whines above him, legs tensing.

Shiro eats him out at his leisure. Slowly opens him up on a wet, hungry tongue. When he pulls back after endless moments of his face tucked between Keith’s cheeks, the little pucker is glinting with his spit, so pink and pretty. Shiro wets a finger, wriggles it in. He bites his lip at the heat that hugs his finger, shocked at how easily it sucks him in with such minimal lubrication. Oooh it would burn if Keith was awake to feel it. Shiro smiles at that. He drives the finger in deeper and rubs along Keith’s walls till he feels the small but unmistakable protrusion of his prostate. Shiro massages it with firm, gentle circles.

Keith whines louder above him, hips bucking back towards Shiro.

Shiro pulls the finger free, gets off the bed to rustle around Keith’s drawers for lube. He finds a half-empty bottle of some, in the second drawer of his bedside table.

Shiro lubes up two of his fingers, knows that the slut can take it. He circles Keith’s rim with the slick fingers before he presses in, insistent. Doesn’t even stop when Keith’s whines turn slightly pained. Doesn’t stop till he’s buried deep, till he’s reached the very last knuckle.

“You’re so tight, little whore,” Shiro murmurs.

He’d taken the liberty of undressing, and now he strokes his cock as he stretches Keith’s pretty hole open on his fingers. When Keith’s taking those two with no trouble, he works up to three. At four fingers, Keith’s hole is stretching around him  _ obscenely _ and the boy is panting in his sleep, brows furrowed.

“You can take it, baby,” Shiro tells him. When Shiro’s managed to bury all four fingers inside his ass up to the very last knuckle, he traces the stretched, red rim with a thumb. Gorgeous.

Keith’s ready for him now. He pulls his fingers free, lubes himself up. He grips one of Keith’s plump cheeks as he takes his cock in hand. Keith’s hole has rushed to close, and Shiro takes a moment to relish the view of his big cock in contrast with Keith’s tiny pucker. He pushes inside in one unforgiving thrust.

_ Fuck _ this boy’s tight. Shiro figures it’s possible the boy was a virgin up until now. The thought makes him even harder. The heat of Keith’s ass is indescribable. Maybe that’s what this rude, rude boy is good for, taking thick cock like a damn dream, even in his sleep. 

Shiro starts off slow, wants to enjoy this for as long as he can. He spreads Keith’s cheeks to watch his cock disappear into his hole. And what a greedy hole it is—slick with lube and opened on Shiro’s tongue, it clings to Shiro’s length like it’s hungry for it. The next time Shiro sinks balls-deep, heavy balls tucked snugly against Keith’s ass, he bends down to land a kiss on the mop of thick black hair.

“Who knew a little brat like you had an ass this sweet?” Shiro groans. 

Then he starts fucking him in earnest. He’s rough with it. He grips Keith’s hips and pulls 

him to his knees so that his face is still smooshed against the pillow while Shiro holds his ass up and has his way with it. Shiro pounds away at Keith’s creamy ass, makes the cheeks bounce and slap against his thighs as he spears Keith open over and over and over again on his cock. Shiro had had no idea how worked up he’d been over Keith’s antics until now. Now he works out his aggression, his annoyance, his searing-hot attraction by stuffing Keith full of cock pump after delicious pump. 

“Rude little bitch,” he growls as he takes his ass.

Keith whines, moans. Claws at the sheets, helpless to the hot pressure of Shiro fucking him to gaping. When Shiro reaches a hand around he finds Keith hard between his legs. He chuckles as he long-dicks his clenching hole, grip firm around Keith’s dripping cock.

“Got a  _ nice  _ little pussy here for me, yeah?” Shiro groans, stroking Keith off as he fucks him. “Gonna stuff this little thing full of my cum, Keith.”

Keith cums with a long moan-turned-whine as Shiro strokes him off, dirties Shiro’s hand with his warm, copious release.

With a few more vigorous pumps, Shiro’s sliding all the way home, crushing Keith’s ass to his thighs as he groans and cums deep, deep inside him. 

There are spots in his vision when he opens his eyes. Keith is still asleep, but his face is flushed way pinker now than it had been with the alcohol. Shiro looks down at his hole, where his softening cock is still buried. He’d cum so much that it’s begun to seep out of Keith’s sweet pussy and around his dick. He pulls out, panting.

Keith looks gorgeous like this, face flushed, gaping ass dripping cum. Shiro brings the hand still covered in Keith’s release to the pretty boy’s face and smears it across his cheek, till his pretty skin is shiny with it. Shiro smirks.

“Snow Yeti, huh?”


End file.
